The Duty Officer flipped the document to the second page, his finger stopping abruptly.
“When a body is damaged beyond recognition, personal effects shall be used as a substitute for filing…” He read this line aloud, his voice kept very low.
However, the colleague at the next desk organizing case files still heard it; the pen in his hand paused, then he quickly lowered his head, pretending he hadn’t heard anything.
The Duty Officer continued reading.
“If the corpse is lost or cannot be identified, no repeated verification shall be conducted; it shall be directly entered into the death register based on personal effects.” By the time he read this, his face had turned completely dark.
When he flipped to the last paragraph, he leaned back tactically, pressing hard against the back of his chair.
“Non-official personnel of the Uchiha Police Force shall not, under any circumstances, privately access, retrieve, or dispose of the individual’s personal effects and related filings…” The scroll in his hand was thrown back onto the table.
His hand hovered in mid-air, stiff for a few seconds before he silently withdrew it.
“Are you serious?” Outside the counter, Yuya shrank his neck, his hands shoved tightly into his sleeves, looking just like a frightened quail.
He didn’t answer immediately, only nervously grinding the toe of his shoe against the brick seam on the floor.
“I submitted a filing a few days ago…
You should have the reference number, it’s that declaration of major personal matters.” “This is supplementary material, and according to regulations, it should be attached to the original file.” “I know that one!” The Duty Officer slammed his hand on the table, nearly sending the seal nearby flying.
Who in the entire Konoha Military Police Force didn’t know about that deadly, wretched file?
The emergency contact was listed as Uchiha Itachi, and the heir to the estate was also listed as Uchiha Itachi.
Anyone who didn’t know better would think he was planning to engrave Itachi’s name directly onto his urn.
“You already wrote Itachi-kun’s name in your estate declaration last time.
Are you doing it again this time—” “No.” Yuya shook his head repeatedly, his voice as soft as a mosquito’s buzz.
“This time it has nothing to do with Itachi-senpai.
It’s just…
about how to handle things after I die.” The Duty Officer froze.
He frowned and lowered his head to scan the document again.
Indeed, from beginning to end, the four characters “Uchiha Itachi” did not appear.
There were only repeated mentions of “unidentified personnel,” “corpse damage,” and “archiving of personal effects.” But the problem was, this thing looked even more chilling!
Last time, it could at least be passed off as a perverted love letter, and everyone just took it as a joke.
What about this time?
A fifteen-year-old kid, in black and white, incoherently explaining what to do if his body couldn’t be found after he died.
This move wasn’t funny at all; it even made people feel a cold wind blowing.
“I can’t accept this.” The Duty Officer pushed the scroll away.
“Even if you’re scared, you don’t have to pull this, right?
Why talk about this in broad daylight?” “Wouldn’t it be better to go back and practice your Great Fireball Technique properly?” Yuya kept his head down, his voice still timid.
“Article 14 of the Filing Regulations: Once a declaration of major personal matters is accepted, subsequent supplementary materials shall be brought by the individual and filed under the original reference number.” “The handling officer may not refuse to attach them based on the content.” The Duty Officer opened his mouth, choked by a mouthful of old blood stuck in his throat.
He was too familiar with this regulation; he used it every day to lecture new recruits.
As long as the format of the supplementary material was correct and the reference number matched, the handling officer had no right to reject it.
In other words, no matter how creepy the stuff this kid submitted was, he had to bite the bullet and accept it.
Dare to refuse?
That would be digging a huge hole for himself.
The Duty Officer stared at Yuya, his gaze so complex it could stretch: “You even memorized the regulations?” “When I came last time, I glanced at the notice on the wall…” Yuya buried his head lower, his speech slow and sluggish, like a nervous, honest person.
“I, I’m not here to cause trouble.
I’m just afraid that if something happens, you’ll have to spend manpower searching all over the clan grounds for my corpse.” “That would be too much of a waste of energy.
I’ll get the paperwork done first, so I don’t cause everyone trouble later.” “Causing trouble” again.
The Duty Officer’s chest felt even more congested, yet he had no way to refute it.
When someone takes the initiative to save you trouble, how can you scold them?
Scold him for being too thoughtful?
Or scold him for being too sensible about his own death?
This matter was so absurd to a certain degree that it actually left people with no temper.
The colleague at the next desk finally put down his pen and turned around.
His gaze swept back and forth between the document and Yuya twice.
“Let me see.” The Duty Officer sighed and handed over the scroll.
The man scanned it from beginning to end, his eyes precisely locking onto three key sentences.
Personal effects replace the corpse, no repeated verification, non-official personnel cannot access.
After reading it, he also fell silent.
After a long while, he put the file back on the table and glanced at the Duty Officer.
“The format is compliant, and the reference number matches.” “Although the content…
is indeed a bit ominous.” When he said this, he paused himself.
“But there is no clause in the regulations that says ‘too ominous to process.’ Just accept it.” “If you’re worried, I’ll co-sign with you.
Even if something goes wrong in the future, at least there’ll be someone to share the blame.” The Duty Officer struggled for two seconds, then finally opened the drawer and took out the stamp.
He really couldn’t refuse.
The previous filing was already in the process; if he didn’t attach this one, he definitely wouldn’t be able to bear the blame.
“Thud!” The moment the red seal fell, the sound wasn’t loud.
But it was as if an alloy tombstone had been nailed down early for the name Uchiha Yuya.
The King of Hell hadn’t even spoken yet, but the process was already completely finished.
Yuya kept his head down, a flash of menacingly kind amusement passing through his eyes.
This wasn’t called ominous; this was called Underworld Legal Services, operating online.
Outside the duty room, a few passing clansmen had already gathered.
Gossip traveled faster in the clan grounds than the Flying Thunder God.
— That psycho who confessed to Itachi was here at the Konoha Military Police Force to stir up trouble again.
“What did he write this time?
Inheritance?
A love letter between men?” “I heard it’s arranging his own funeral, the kind about what to do if his ashes can’t be found.” “Pah, pah, pah!
It’s like Ominous’s mother opening the door for Ominous, it’s ominous to the extreme!” After hearing this, the few onlookers dispersed quickly; even a passing dog would have wanted to jump over a brazier.
Two middle-aged women even spat in Yuya’s direction.
The atmosphere in the clan grounds was already oppressive; who would want to get involved with such a walking ominous-generator?
Yuya wrote his name in the signature column.
His hand trembled just right, a masterclass in Oscar-level micro-expression management.
The crooked handwriting was exactly the same as the previous filing.
As the last stroke fell, the co-signing colleague also signed his name.
Two-person witnessing, old file association, stamped and effective.
A seamless administrative closed loop, done!
Yuya bowed deeply to the two of them, his voice hoarse.
“Thank you, both…
really, thank you.” When he straightened up, he covertly glanced at the counter.
The Duty Officer had already stuffed the document into an old file bag and thrown it into the pending review area.
The items here would be entered into the internal notification network within today.
Not many people could see this notification, but Uchiha Itachi was definitely one of them.
Yuya withdrew his gaze, hugged that pile of old clothes, and slipped out the side door with a hunched back.
As soon as he turned into a deserted narrow alley, the blue light of the system popped up in the corner of his vision.
[Task Progress: 45%] [Completed: Old File Association ✓ | Two-Person Witnessing ✓ | Personal Effects Substitution Clause ✓] [Pending: Key Observer Informed | Pre-War Sealing of Personal Effects | Archiving Confirmation] Forty-five percent progress, steady as a rock.
The midday sun was scorching, pinning his shadow under his feet, so short it looked like it could be crushed at any moment.
Before walking out of the alley, Yuya activated his advanced perception to scan the area.
The patrol team two streets away was still slacking off.
From the direction of the rooftops, a faint wisp of Chakra flashed by rapidly.
It was Anbu’s routine check-in, not those sneaks from Root.
Yuya knew what was going on and continued shuffling towards home.
Passing a dango stall, he fished out a few copper coins and bought two skewers.
When the proprietress saw his face, the corner of her mouth twitched violently.
Obviously, she recognized this rumored “top-tier clown.” But the money was already on the counter, and it wouldn’t be appropriate not to accept it.
Yuya turned around with a dango in his mouth, and the proprietress’s whispering immediately drifted from behind him.
“Is that him?
I heard he’s already arranged his own urn.” “Is he really crazy or was he scared into having problems?” “Whatever, as long as he doesn’t die in front of my stall, it’s fine.” Yuya chewed on the dango, too lazy to pay any attention.
Scold me, despise me, open your minds.
In this place that was about to become a Shura field, only a marginalized clown despised by everyone could die the most quietly.
Meanwhile, at an Anbu observation point on the outskirts of the clan grounds, a crow flapped its wings and flew off a wire.
A cat-faced mask lowered its head and scribbled a line in a notebook.
[1:00 PM, Uchiha Yuya re-entered the Konoha Military Police Force, submitted supplementary documents for the handling of death/personal effects.
Suspected behavioral collapse due to excessive mental stress.
Rating: D.] The pen tip was retracted, and the notebook was closed.
This seemingly absurd piece of intelligence was about to be delivered to the Third Hokage’s desk this evening.
At the same time, Root’s intelligence node also received a shorter secret report.
Uchiha Yuya submitted an exemption procedure for post-mortem personal effects.
Specifically added a clause: Non-official personnel are prohibited from accessing his personal effects.
Danzo, in the sewer, would never have thought that a five-combat-power loser would actually pre-emptively install a security door named “Administrative Compliance” for him.